


Love is never blind

by Symmetrypop



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2101329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symmetrypop/pseuds/Symmetrypop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Unexpected accident leaves Stiles without certain memories. Memories of everything that has happened since the beginning of Sophomore year. Including a brooding man with stubble that he can't get out of his mind. As he struggles to adapt to this sudden change, Derek decides it's best to stay away. But can the worried wolf stay away forever?((Done writing. Won't finish))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A story he once knew

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Symmetrypop here! This is not my first fic, but it is my first on here. I really do hope you enjoy. Updates should come once every two weeks or so. Enjoy~

Stiles knew this story, a bit too well. The story where all it took was one day, twenty-four hours, to make everything to fall apart. Everything Stiles had worked so hard to build up, to make right, to make okay. After everything that had happened in the past couple years, all the loss, all the pain and agony. Faking smiles and laughs… even faking that he loved someone. He really just wanted to feel right again, feel normal. But once the nightmares started up again, the ones that woke him up in screaming in fear, trying to kick and fight free of a force that wasn’t really there. He knew that everything he worked for, was going to fall.

Of course his father came running in gun pointed, ready to kick someone’s ass, only to see that it was his nightmares again. Stiles felt the arms wrap around him but his body continued to shake through the fear. It had been months since his last nightmare; both of them truly thinking they were gone again. 

It took hours before Stiles was calm enough to let his dad go back to bed, he had to work and Stiles had school. But sleep for him never came, he couldn’t sleep…. His dream was already taunting him, playing back in his head over and over again.

Scott knew something was up, he knew his friend all to well to think other wise. But Stiles brushed it off, blamed it on lack of sleep, not a lie but not the full truth. The school day was agonizingly slow. Each period, each teacher seemed to get louder and more annoying that by the time he was in couch’s class he had to get out, he needed to leave. His head pounded, his stomach swirled and bubbled. He ignored his teacher’s yells for his to sit back down and his best friends worried glances. He didn’t care he needed a bathroom. 

Every step sent pain through his body, every sound sent spikes to his head. It seemed like an hour had passed before his head was resting against a stall, his body slumped. He couldn’t even clearly remember how he had gotten there. 

It only took a shift to try and stand to send his stomach acid retching from his mouth and into the white porcelain toilet. Shivers racking through his body over and over, as less and less came out. Once it was over he felt a bit better. Good enough to get him self home at least. He stood up and walked out after flushing the toilet and cleaning himself up a bit.

He didn’t even ask to leave he just walked out. He fished his keys out of his pocket and leaned against his jeep. He looked down trying to focus on the keyhole, trying to get himself in, but his hands were shaking so bad. Then he felt hands on his and a deep, not so happy voice called out behind him. Derek… of course if was Derek, he knew Scott must have sent him a message or something. 

“I am just trying to get myself home… okay? I don’t need some lecture by some wolf with super healing powers, that probably never gets sick” Stiles spoke and pulled his hand back and twisted his head up to look at the man next to him. Tall, dark, handsome… and everything else those cliché books said about sexy men. Stiles heard the angry grumble and leaned against his jeep. “What do you want Derek?” He asked., not really wanting to stay here, he wanted to go home. 

“You look like shit Stiles… Are you okay?” Derek asked, voice normal, not showing much emotion at all. He leaned against the jeep as well. A laugh came from Stiles and he shook his head.

“Everyone keeps asking that. I am fine. I just had a rough time sleeping last night. I’m going home now. I’ll be okay. I run with wolves, I’m strong” He tried to be his normal self, he smiled and nodded his head, acting like he was cool. Which caused a small smiled tug at Derek’s lips. “You know it to! I’m pretty awesome” playing it cool…it was the only way to get away from this quicker. Stiles heart was beating pretty damn fast. 

“Yeah so strong Stiles… you really are” Derek shook his head and leaned in a bit “Don’t lie to me, I can help you home.. if you need it. Its fine” He spoke and Stiles just shook his head and looked back to the key hole, sliding his key in the first try.

“See I’m fine. If you are so worried then when Scott gets out of school, which is in like two hours then get him and come check on me.” Stiles started his jeep and closed the door “I’ll most likely be sleeping though…”

Derek just watched him, not sure if he should really be letting him drive. But he really did think that Stiles seems just right in his mind enough to be okay. “Right… I will do that” He nodded and turned and walked off. Feeling a bit guilty and was deciding on if he should just follow Stiles home or not, just to be sure. In the end he decided against it and moved along to wait for Scott.

On the dive home Stiles started to feel twenty times worse. He groaned and swerved on the road a bit. He shook his head; he was so close to being home, so close to his bed. Then he thought that it would be nice to hang out with Derek and Scott for a bit. 

That was his last thought before things went back. 

 

When Stiles woke up there was pain all over his body, he could barely even move. He could smell smoke and that shook him up enough to realize he was upside down in his jeep. He groaned and started to panic. He clicked the release button on his belt over and over again until it finally dropped him, giving another blow to his head. He whimpered out in pain as he pulled himself free from the broken window. He was huffing in pain, his gaze blurry as he looked around. He wasn’t even sure where the hell he was. Nothing was familiar. Did he drive the wring damn way home or something?

The warmth of his blood seeping through his shirt felt oddly relaxing from the bite of the cold fall air. He couldn’t move anymore, wither too weak or something was really broken. His eyes started to flutter closed when he finally heard sirens and saw two faces hovering over his. 

Derek watched as the ambulance guys took him away. The anger he felt and himself for not following Stiles, for letting him ago. He stood up and walked over to Scott, anger and pain clear on his face “Why did you call them? I could have helped Scott!” He shouted and Scott glared at him and walked closer.

“Do what? Bite him? You already took some of his pain away Derek. There was nothing you could have done” Scott yelled at him “if you just went with him… Or hell even just followed him you could have stopped it! Why the hell did you wait for me?” He asked, chest heaving, tears still springing from his eyes, watching the ambulance pull away.

Derek pushed and his chest and shook his head “You think that I haven’t already thought of that?” He growled and turned around and walked over to the turned over jeep and laid his hand on the crunched metal. He felt sick, he needed to go see Stiles. He needed to know that he was okay. “We need to call his dad”

Scott’s faces falling more at that and sighed pulling out his phone, seeing that he already had some missed calls. “Looks like he already knows… shit” He pressed the re call button and held the phone to his ear. The worried voice of Stiles father was loud and made him pulled the phone back for just a bit. “I don’t know. I don’t… He got up in the middle of class and just….” Scott was cut off and his face whitened “He did? Was the nightmare really that bad?” He sighed and held the phone closer to his ear “He’s in the hospital now yeah… Derek and I are on our way” He hung up the phone and walked over to Derek. 

Derek looked over to him and took in a breath and set Stiles car right and stepped back. “Let’s go” He spoke and ran back to his car on the other side of the street. Scott following behind him, both of their minds racing with wonder of what was wrong with Stiles, and just hoping he was okay. 

There was no such thing as walking when they got there. Being wolves they easily avoided hitting anyone. Scott of course already knew which room Stiles was in, thanks to his mom phone call. Mrs. McCall was waiting outside for them with a soft smile. It was more for them to calm down and not worry too much. 

“Mom! Mom! Where’s Stiles? Is he okay?” Panic clear in Scotts voice as tears started to fall from his eyes again. His mom just smiled some more and pulled her son in for a tight hug and rocked him.

“He’s okay. He has yet to wake up, but no signs of a concussion, just bruised pretty badly…and he has a broken arm, a good amount of cuts from glass. But he’s okay” Mrs. Mcall told him, but looked to Derek who was pretty obviously trying to hold himself together. “Go a head inside guys. “ she spoke and patted her sons back and followed them in.  
Derek was the first in. Seeing Stiles in the hospital bed was something he never wanted to see. But there he was, bruises covering his mole speckled skin, his chest moving, breathing normally. Derek pulled up a chair next to the bed and didn’t care how much any of his feelings showed. He grabbed the unmoving hand and rested his forehead on it, wishing to take more pain away from the unmoving man in the bed.

Scott watched him and looked to his mother and took in a shaky breath. “I need to go find Stiles father. I need to make sure he’s okay too. Stiles would kill me if I didn’t” He watched his mother nodded and kiss his cheek and he pulled himself away from her and looked back to Derek “Keep an eye on him” Scott said before removing himself from the room, followed by him mom.

Derek was thankful for the chance to be alone with Stiles. He finally let the couple tears holding in his eyes drop. “Dammit you little idiot. You said you were fine. If I find out you lied to me…and drove home not feeling good. I will kill you” He spoke and closed his eyes, holding his hand tighter. “And if someone did a hit a run, I will track them down and kill them” He growled and really just wanted to hear a response from the younger male, but when nothing came he let a couple more tears fall until he feel asleep.

Stiles woke up in a panic, not too sure where he was. For a moment he feared that he’d slept walk somewhere horrible. It took a moment but he was able to realize he was in the hospital judging by the white sheets and walls, though what really gave it away was the heart monitor. He shifted a bit before sitting up. His hand felt heavy and he glanced down to find it wrapped in the slender fingers of an unfamiliar man who was currently hunched over, sleeping in one of the uncomfortable plastic hospital chairs. Confusion washed over his face. Who was this man? Stiles couldn’t help but find the man attractive the longer he stared at him and didn’t at all mind the hand holding, but he wasn’t sure why.

\--

So he sat there, watching the sleeping male… Well, sleep. It was quite calming for him, oddly enough. So when the stubbled man shifted away and sat up with a groan, Stiles quickly moved his eyes to pretend he was just watching the T.V this entire time.  
Derek looked over to him and let out a sigh filled with conflicting emotions. “You’re awake? Stiles, are you okay?” His first instinct was to make sure the teenager was completely fine. After that he planned on delivering a lecture about stupid ass thinking and the consequences that usually came with poor choices like driving home while that sick. 

“Uh… Well I hurt but I’m breathing so I guess I’m fine,” Stiles answered and watched relief wash over the mystery man’s face. “You obviously know me… But I don’t know you.” He added and that relieved face went away, replaced with a panicked expression. Derek stood up abruptly and looked to him.

“Please tell me this is one of your misguided attempts at humor.” Stiles’ blank expression confirmed that it wasn’t true. “God damn it, do you seriously have memory loss? No. This can’t be fucking happening.” He growled and held his head, his anger encouraging his change. He quickly removed himself from the room and stumbled into the bathroom. He stared into the mirror for several moments, watching as his eyes faded from red back to blue and his teeth retracted back into his gums. He wasn’t sure why Stiles’ not knowing who he was made him so emotional, but it did. He pulled his phone out from the pocket of his leather jacket to call Scott. They needed to see just how bad Stiles’ memory loss was.

When Stiles watched the unfamiliar man walk out to meet with his best friend and father, he knew something was wrong even before the worried glances were thrown his way. His father was the first one to rush up to him, asking way too many questions at once.

“Stiles!” Sheriff Stilinski’s worried voice nearly cracked as he sat in the chair Derek had vacated moments before. “How do you feel? Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Why didn’t you call me?” He hadn’t meant to overwhelm his son with a dozen questions but worry pushed them from his lips.

Stiles shook his head. “Dad, I’m fine. Just sore.” He glanced back to where Scott and the stranger were arguing. Why did that seem like such a familiar sight to see? He was certain he’d never seen the stern and grumpy looking man before and yet… He really was pretty familiar and Stiles couldn’t help but feel like he knew him. Scott obviously knew him from what he could see. This was starting to get frustrating.  
His dad nodded, slightly relieved. But still, Derek had said Stiles didn’t remember some things… “Stiles. Can you tell me what happened?” Of course, the sheriff already knew every detail of the car crash but he wanted to judge how far his son’s memory loss seemed to go back without worrying him. 

Stiles parted his lips as if too speak but remained silent. What had happened? He really had no idea. All he could remember was waking up here in the hospital with a ridiculously attractive stranger holding his hand. “I don’t remember much, Dad, honestly.” He saw the worry and concern openly displayed on his dad’s face and felt something twist in his gut. If his dad was this torn up… “Dad, where’s mom? I’m sorry for making you both worry but I’m fine. Really.” He waved his arms to emphasis his point. 

Sheriff Stilinski froze as his son’s words registered with him. Oh, God, this couldn’t be happening. His heart twisted at the thought of having to inform Stiles that his mother was dead and had been dead for the past three years. “Stiles,” he rasped, “how old are you?”

Stiles would be a liar if he said he couldn’t notice the look of pain that had flashed in his father’s eyes. “Dad. Are /you/ okay? I’m fifteen. Where’s mom?” He started to panic, his heart clenching in a familiar feeling that he didn’t understand. What was happening? He began panting and gasping for breath, his eyes wide in fear. His father leaped out of the chair and ran passed Scott and the stranger who were both now staring at him; Scott with worry and concern and the stranger with a jumble of undecipherable emotions. He didn’t have much time to think because his dad was back, a nurse in tow. He was immediately handed an inhaler. After two or three puffs his breath returned and he collapsed back against the bed, exhausted and confused. 

“I think it’s best of we leave you alone to rest,” the nurse murmured in a motherly voice. Sheriff Stilinski nodded and replied that he’d only stay for a minute. The nurse nodded and left, closing the door behind her. “What the hell was that?” Stiles asked as soon as she was gone. 

“Stiles,” the Sheriff whispered, gently stroking his son’s hair like he had when he was a child. “It was a panic attack. You used to have them all the time after-” He stopped himself and pulled away. “Rest. I’ll be back later with Scott and Derek to talk more.”  
He was about to protest but his dad just turned and walked out, leaving Stiles completely alone in the sickeningly white room. He groaned and let his head slam back down in the pillows, more frustrated than ever. He felt like he was forgetting something. Something really important. He started feeling drowsy and stifled a yawn. Where was his mom? And who was Derek? Why did that name sound so familiar? Those questions floated around in his mind as sleep overtook him. The last thing he saw was red eyes and a stubbled face. Derek….


	2. Heart breaking truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up. This is just a bit of an AU. Yes mostly everything is the same and there. But I switched up some details, to fit the story line I had in my head. Sorry if that bugs you, I really am~ I hope you enjoy this chapter. Had some free time so it's out sooner then I had expected. 
> 
> I also got a comment talking about the major character death thing? You'll just have to wait and seeeee~ Won't be for a while though.

It had been heartbreaking for Sheriff Stilinski to leave his son like that but he didn’t want to tell him the truth right then and there. No, it would break him. He’d already lived through the pain of losing his mother once and he sure as hell didn’t need to do it again. The older man glanced at Scott and Derek who were staring at him with mirrored expectant expressions, asking the same silent question. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “He thinks Claudia is still alive. It’s like he’s fifteen all over again.” His voice broke as he spoke. 

Scott look stricken but Derek was confused. “Claudia?” Scott sighed and looked at him. “His mother. She died when he was fifteen. It was really hard on him; he had panic attacks all the time. He wouldn’t even to talk to me about it.” 

Derek fisted his hands, frustration boiling under his skin. He’d failed to protect one of is pack. This was his fault and he couldn’t fix it. Could he? A low grow emanated from his throat as his change threatened to overpower him.

Scott, sensing his alpha’s change turned to the Sheriff. “Why don’t you go get some coffee and think? Stiles is sleeping now, we can’t do anything until he wakes up.” The man nodded distractedly, walking toward the small cafeteria on the second floor.  
-  
Derek was talking in deep breaths, trying to focus on his anger and not the horrible and overwhelming sadness he was feeling. He leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, resting his head on his knees. 

Scott took in a deep breath and squatted down next to him. “This is not your fault Derek…Don’t blame yourself for this-” He spoke but was cut off.

“You texted me! You told me to watch over him! And to make sure he was okay. He played it off but I knew something was up yet I didn’t… I didn’t get in there with him and make sure he got his stupid face home!” Derek looked up to him and huffed out. “This is my fault and now he doesn’t even remember me!” He shouted and looked away from Scott, standing up. “I’m going to go, okay?” He spoke, looking back at him. “One more thing Scott…if he doesn’t remember me, he doesn’t remember anything about what we are…I think it would be best if we…left him out of it...”

Scott thought about that. He didn’t want to hide this from him. But it would make sense, but he wasn’t going to lie to his friend. “No, Derek. As soon as he’s okay and out of here, I will tell him and show him! He’s our friend. He shouldn’t be lied to at this time! What if something happens? Huh? We just hold off and let him get hurt more to hide something that he already knows about?”

“Knew! That he knew about Scott! He doesn’t remember!” Derek shouted at him. The urge to shift at growl at the frustrating beta was a hard one to resist. 

“I am not hiding this from my friend, Derek!” Scott shouted right back at him and let out an angry huff.

“No Scott, We are hiding this from him. We need to! He has a chance to get out of all this now! To live a normal life,” Derek glared at Scott, running a hand through his black hair. “Do you get that? He doesn’t have to get caught up in all of this. If he dies it can be from something natural…and not supernatural.” He turned around and walked off “Do it Scott… Really think about it…”

Scott watched him leave, taking in a deep, shaky breath before sighing. It was true, it really was, and he couldn’t tell Stiles, at least not now. Not for a while. His best friend’s head was stuck in the past, not knowing what’s up with his body, or why he’s having attacks, or where his mother is, and why his father was so shaken up at the mention of his mother. 

Scott frowned and pushed his way into the hospital room of his resting friend. His heart monitor beeping was the only thing that made him positive that he was alive. Not even trusting his super hearing for that. He sat on the chair next to the bed and pulled his legs up to his knees, just watching every lift and fall of the others chest. 

Scott blamed himself just as much as Derek did, and he was sure Stiles’ dad was blaming himself as well. He had noticed that something was up but hadn’t follow him out of the class to make sure he was okay like a good friend would have. He was sure the sheriff was blaming himself because Stiles is his son and he should have known something was up. Unknown to Scott, Sheriff Stilinski had known Stiles had been getting sick and starting to sleepwalk again. 

 

The next thing Scott knew, Stiles started screaming. It wasn’t just a simple scream; it was one that would play over and over in someone’s head like one from the only good scary movie they’ve ever seen. Scott was already out of his chair and carefully trying to wake Stiles up. 

Nurses came rushing in, blaming him for whatever was happening and tried to rush him out. But Scott did not let it happen. “He’s my friend! I know what to do!” He shouted and pushed his way back to the front of the nurses and started to run his hand through Stiles hair. “Come on buddy. Wake up.” He said softly and kept repeating his actions and his gently murmured words.

Eventually Stiles eyes fluttered open with a soft gasp, he looked around and clutched onto Scott’s shirt desperately. “Mom?! Mom!” He shouted out and locked eyes with Scott, taking a moment before he realized the shirt he was clutching belonged to his best friend and not his mother, before letting a breath out. “Crap, Scott…. Sorry. I just really want to see my mom.” He laughed it off even though his heart hurt and looked away, wiping his tears.

Scott looked to the nurses, wanting to tell them to fuck off but Stiles was more important. “Yeah…. My mom works here and I miss her.” He joked carefully and looked back to him. “What was the dream about, Stiles?” He asked and Stiles froze just thinking before shrugging. 

“It left me man… Sorry.” Stiles sat up carefully with Scott’s help and sighed. “Thirsty…can you hand me my water?” He asked and Scott quickly replied by reaching over and grabbing the little bottle, handing it over to him. He watched as Stiles basically chugged the water down.

“Dude so… Can you tell me why the hell I am laying in a hospital bed and everyone talking about me crashing a Jeep? I can’t even drive yet and my dad is planning on buying me a Tonka car like a Honda or something?” He laughed and rolled his eyes. “My mom was talking about getting me that Jeep that’s down the street. God that would be awesome… anyways… Me… Hospital bed. Why?” He repeated and then gasped. “Did that guy that was in here… Ugh.. You guys called him Sterek? No... Uh... Derek! Yeah, Derek! Did he hit me when I was on my bike or something?” He asked.

Scott laughed at that. “No Stiles, It’s not that. And I will tell you... Or the doctor probably will. But I rather it comes from your father.” He nodded and shrugged, trying to act like it was nothing big. “You will know soon enough.” He spoke but he almost started crying at the fact that that sentence could mean more than one thing, each being less hopeful then the other. He shifted to look away from his friend, but Stiles stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve been in a comma, huh? I mean who can get a bit of stubble in one day when you’re fifteen, right?” Stiles laughed and rolled his eyes. “You could have just told me that… It’s not that bad right? I mean, I’m alive and well!” He said and Scott turned back to him. Stiles watched as a tear fall from his eye. “Oh. Not a comma, was it?” Stiles dropped his hand and covered his face. “Please just tell me Scott! Please!” He begged and heard the door open, revealing his father with a cup of coffee. 

“I think that it should be me who tells you, Stiles…” Mr. Stilinski spoke and set his coffee down, grabbing his son’s hand to hold tightly within his own. “It’s going to be long… and painful okay? I don’t want you to get your hopes up that everything is okay, it will only bring you down harder. I just want you to b—“ His words were cut off by Stiles shouting at him to just get on with it. 

The sheriff took a deep breath and nodded. “Right… Stiles. I’m sorry.” He spoke and sat down carefully on the bed, Scott grabbed a hold of Stiles’ hand and just held it tightly. Derek (who never actually left because he couldn’t stand himself being too far from the injured human.) stood a hallway down, listening to it all. 

“You have a case of memory loss, son. It’s not as bad as some and we are sure as hell lucky that you did not die.” Papa Stilinski spoke and closed his eyes. “You are set back a couple years. You’re not fifteen, you are seventeen… Derek is a friend you had… and… and...” He stopped himself and took a deep, shaky breath and let it out before continuing. “And you’re mother, she’s been dead for two years.” He spoke and Stiles let out a chocked sob as tears started to run down his face.

“No!” Stiles screamed and held Scott’s hand tighter. “NO! She can’t be DEAD… she was just alive yesterday… she can’t... No! No! No! No! No!” He kept repeating, his chest heaving again with every breath he took. Scott grabbed the inhaler and pressed it to his friend’s mouth, forcing Stiles to inhale the medicine.

“It’s the reason why you have panic attacks and why you sleep walk.” Scott added.

“I sleep walk?! I haven’t done that since mom left us for a year…” Stiles frowned.

“That was a long time ago Stiles,” Sheriff Stilinski told him and took in another deep breath. “You were in a car accident. You recently started sleep walking again and were pretty sick this morning, I should have stopped you, but you left without a word...” Pain laced his voice, mirroring the pain that now darkened Stiles’ caramel colored eyes. 

“No,” he rasped, just giving up the fight and collapsing back against the bed as silent tears streamed from his eyes. “She can’t… How did she die?” He finally let his gaze slide back to Scott and his father. Scott looked exhausted and worried and his dad looked emotional, pained, and much older than he actually was. It hurt Stiles to see him reduced to such a state because of some stupid mistake he’d made.

Sheriff Stilinski was silent for a moment. “Frontotemporal dementia,” he finally answered and then continued when he saw the unspoken question on his face. "Frontotemporal dementia is a group of uncommon disorders that affect the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain. She…” His voice caught, making it unable for him to finish what he was going to explain. Stiles already knew that his mother was dead. Why make him suffer more by telling him how she had changed and become someone else? Sheriff Stilinski couldn’t do it. Not now. 

Stiles, even with two years missing, was still able to tell that speaking about his mother made his dad hurt in ways he was beginning to understand. “Dad…” He whispered, reaching out and laying his hand over his father’s clenched ones. “I- I’m sorry for forgetting. I’m sorry for-” His voice broke then, the pain he and his father shared too overwhelming for words. The next thing he knew, his father had an arm awkwardly wrapped around his shoulders, hugging him as much as he could manage with Stiles stuck in the hospital bed. 

Stiles hugged back; clinging to the only parent he had left in the world. “Dad. Did she die peacefully or in pain?” He finally managed to whisper, his eyes closed tightly.  
Sheriff Stilinski hugged him harder. “Peacefully,” he whispered back. “She died with you by her side. I’m sure you were a great comfort to her, Stiles.” Finally he pulled back, wiping at the tears that had started to drip from his eyes in embarrassment. He smiled weakly and squeezed Stiles’ hand in reassurance. “We can visit her grave later, all right? You can go alone to re-say your good byes. Or I could go. Or… Scott?” The teenager in question nodded his head. “Whatever you want, Stiles. We’re all here for you. Me. Scott. Derek. All of your friends, I’m sure.” 

Scott felt like he should leave Stiles and his father to have their moment in peace, but he couldn’t bear leaving Stiles alone. Guilt for not following Stiles out of the classroom and leaving everything up to Derek still plagued him and kept him from running away. 

Stiles had finally managed to regain most of his composure though he still looked awful. His eyes were red and puffy, his nose congested, and his hair sticking up in odder angles than normal. He adjusted the cheap hospital gown he was wearing and nodded. “I… Yeah, I want to go see it. Her. As soon as they let me leave.”  
Sheriff Stilinski stood and nodded. “I will go ask the nurses when they think you’ll be released, alright?” As he left the room, he clamped his hands on Scott’s shoulder and looked at him with an expression of worry, concern, and a jumbled of other emotions. “Stay with him.” Scott nodded in answer and moved to the chair next to the bed, not saying anything as Stiles stared silently up at the ceiling, lost in his own mind. 

In the next hallway, Derek sat on the ground, his face buried into his knees with his hands tightly clenching his hair as if the pain of him tugging on that would distract him from the growing pain in his chest caused by listening to the conversation currently going on in Stiles’ room. He wanted to run, to shift and let his wolf instinct to take over. But he had a stronger urge to run back to Stiles and comfort him. To tell him everything would be fine even if he wasn’t sure it would be. 

Finally after a few moments and Sheriff Stilinski had left on his errand, Derek managed to struggle to his feet, heading for the exit with burning eyes. It was safer for Stiles if the alpha never re-entered his life. He was fully committed to his plan to keep Stiles far away from the world of the pack even though he wasn’t sure he could manage to stay sane without the annoying smart ass in his life.

Stiles sat up in his bed. His mind was still running over and over with the thought that his mother was dead. It felt like just yesterday to him that he was talking to his mother about the Jeep he wanted. He could remember it so clearly that it really did seem like yesterday. He could clearly remember her laugh, her smile, and the eyes that matched his. He was never going to be able to look in the mirror and be okay. 

“Scott…?” Stiles spoke up and looked to his best friend. He needed his mind to quiet down. All he wanted to do was cry and scream. He felt like shit, a piece of shit son that couldn’t remember his mother’s death. He clutched his hands together and tried to relax.

“Yeah, Stiles?” Scott said, carefully saying each word. Not wanting to inflict more pain on his best friend.

“So I forgot my mom… and that guy, Derek? Whom else have I forgotten?” Stiles shifted a bit, really hoping there was no one else. He could not stand forgetting anyone else. 

Scott thought about telling him about Isaac and Erica and all the others that they happened to come to know the past two years. But had Derek told him to keep Stiles out of it…and he was right, and he would do just that. “No one… Just them. Our lives haven’t been that cool in high school so far, pretty damn boring… no love life. Nothing.” He felt and about lying, but he knew he had to.

Stiles sighed a bit, though it still hurt that he had forgotten some people. That was not who he was. He remembered everyone. “So Derek isn’t my boyfriend or something? Because he looks like he’s blaming this on himself… I mean so are you and my dad. But It was me, you guys.” Stiles breathed out at looked to the ceiling. “I mean, I was the one who was playing off like I was fine most likely. Probably pulled off a perfect smile too. You always seemed to fall for them in the past.” He laughed sadly. “I drove sick; I did this to myself.” He closed his eyes “It makes this… whole damn thing worse!” Stiles shouted “I’m sitting here with memory loss, and yeah, you guys are hurt over it… But you seem to care more on who’s to blame.”

Scott shook his head, “That’s not it at all Stiles... I just feel like if I had gotten up and followed you-”Stiles cut him off by lifting his hand. 

“Scott… Even if you had, I’m sure I would have done the same thing,” Stiles sighed and scooted himself to lie down again. 

“Sorry… And Derek is a friend. Not your boyfriend. You’re not gay,” Scott said, trying to make a joke.

“Yeah? Well I could be!” Stiles added and looked over to him with a smile.

“Yeah, I know,” Scott smiled back at him. 

“So where is he? That Derek guy?” Stiles asked and watched as Scott shrugged. “Well, he should come see me again… Maybe it will help. Since it seems he’s the only one recent in my lost memories to help.”

“Maybe… I’ll call him for you, Stiles” Scott nodded and smiled at him. “Everything will be okay.”

“Do you really believe that?” Stiles asked but he never heard the answer, as his drugs pulled him under again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please feel free to add a comment. I like to know thoughts and questions and everything. It helps knowing what people are liking and not liking. Thank you a head of time.


	3. A Short Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dreamsingr : Thank you for the Review! I would totally be pissed off too! I guess it's all up to Stiles, if he remembers something or sees something. I'm pretty sure Derek is dead set on not telling him.

Most of the days in the hospital went by the pretty much the same. Scott would visit before and after school, his father would visit after work, and sometimes Lydia would come by. Which was one of the biggest surprises of his week. He could remember always crushing on Lydia from afar, but he had forgotten how they had even started talking. It was nice to talk to her, because even though he had forgotten how they had become friends, she was someone familiar despite the small memory loss involving her. Other then the visits, Stiles was still alone most of the time, leaving his mind to wander to places he’d never thought his mind would go.

Things weren’t better when he got home. His room seemed to be exactly how he remembered leaving it. It was the only comforting thing to him so far. He let himself fall onto the bed, taking in deep breaths. His father only had enough time to sign him out and drop him off before he went to work and Scott had texted him that he’d come by his house after school, meaning he was still alone. And this time there weren’t any nurses checking on him every few minutes.

Which is why a painful sob ripped from his throat. He held his head and curled into a ball and started crying. Stiles closed his eyes tightly and hit his head. “Remember, Stiles! Why can’t you just REMEMBER!” He choked out the words and stood up. He ran to his desk and opened the drawers. He just needed to see a picture of her… just one. He breathed heavily as tears poured out. He threw out random thing after random things.

Paper…pencils…. string…key chains…candy wrappers and when the drawer was empty he took it out and threw it and moved on to the next one. The end result was the same as before. He moved on to dresser, throwing his clothes out, taking a drawer out, repeating it until every drawer was emptied out and tossed somewhere in his room. He let out another pained sob and looked at himself in the mirror, hating the man he saw. “How could you forget something like that?! Huh! Your own damn mother! You can’t remember her dying! You made your father go through the pain of telling you it…again!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, his chest heaving a bit too fast.

“I hate you! I! Hate!.... YOU!” Stiles pointed to him by pointing at the mirror where his reflection lay. He clenched his fists and punched the mirror, the glass falling in what seemed like slow motion to Stiles. He placed a bloody hand on his pounding heart as his vision started to blur and his ears started to ring. “What….what’s… shit.” He needed to find his phone. He was sure he was having another attack like he had in the hospital and he wasn’t sure what to do. 

Stiles weakly started to scramble through his mess of a room to find his phone. It felt like with every beat of his heart he was going to pass out. He fell to the floor as the pain became too much, his chest burning as if he was drowning. He then felt a vibration in his pocket and nearly gasped out as he shakily grabbed it. He quickly looked passed whatever had made his phone buzz in the first place and called his father praying his number was still the same.

“Hello? Stiles? Is everything okay?” A very worried papa voice came from the other end. Stiles was glad that the number was the same after all these years that he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to say now. He gasped out, trying to speak but words failing him. “Stiles?! Hey Stiles! What’s wrong?” His father’s voiced picked up a tone. 

“C-can’t… I can’t…” Stiles said and closed his eyes. ‘Fuck this was too damn hard!’ Stiles thought and was doing his best to take deep breaths to get air into his struggling lungs. But it seemed like his message to his father got through because he heard keys jingling and the start of a car and then sirens. Thank God for him being a sheriff.

What seemed like hours later, even though it was just a minute, his father was rushing into his room and through the mess and to his son. Papa Stilinski picked his son up carefully and set the inhaler into his gasping mouth. Stiles grabbed it and took in one puff, then another. He could feel air rush through his lungs again, but everything still hurt, especially his hand, which was still bleeding.

Stiles felt himself being picked up and brought into the living room. As soon as he felt the comfort of his worn-in couch, his father was back patching up his hand. A sting from the rubbing alcohol registered and then another sting from the medical wrap that now bound his self inflicted injury. He was really thankful for his father not asking any questions about his room or his hand, but Stiles knew that his father already had the answers to those unasked questions already.

“So… How fast did you go?” Stiles asked his father quietly when he felt a bit better.

“Didn’t feel fast enough, but I was going over one hundred.” The Sheriff told his son with a soft smile.

“Don’t you know that’s illegal dad... you could have gotten pulled over,” Stiles joked, smiling back at him. His father laughed at that, nodding and in that moment things felt normal.

After Papa Stilinski was sure Stiles was okay, he got himself ready to leave for work again. Stiles closely following behind, inhaler in his hand, he didn’t want to leave anywhere without it. He cleared his throat as he watched his dad put on his belt and grab his keys. “Um… Hey, dad. Can I ask you a question?” He said softly and kept his eyes locked on his father’s. 

“Anything, Stiles. What is it?” The sheriff asked and started to walk toward the door.

“Can you take me to mom’s grave please? I want to… I want to do this alone,” Stiles spoke carefully and walked with him. His father stopped, took a deep breath and then nodded. 

“Of course I can… Just call a taxi or something to get you home,” he told his son and pulled out a twenty, handing it to him. 

“Thank you, dad.” Stiles said and walked out of the house and over to the police car, getting in. The trip was silent. There was no need for words other then the goodbyes and the ‘stay safe’ as his father dropped him off and went back to work.

Then Stiles was lost. He had forgotten to ask his father where the grave was. He frowned as he looked around the very too green grass and the tombs that gave off a powerful contrast. He felt tears drop down his face as he started to run into gravesite. He could feel the people staring at him. He hated when people stared at him, so he turned down another road and ran faster. 

 

Eventually his chest hurt and he stopped to take in one puff of his inhaler. He groaned and let himself drop on the floor. He looked at all the tombstones that surrounded him and frowned. He was never going to be able to just find his mothers! He looked down at his hands and from the corner of his eye he saw it, his last name. He quickly crawled over to it, tears pouring from his eyes at a faster pace. “Mom… Mom,” he cried while touching the engraved picture of his mother’s face. 

Stiles rested his head on the stone and just cried, his hands pulling at the strands of grass beneath him. He looked up to the gray sky and the sad, slow moving clouds. He took in deep shaky breaths and closed his eyes as yet another sob broke free just as rain started sprinkling down on Beacon Hills. Everyone started to walk away from different graves, some rushing, others walking quickly. Soon enough, all Stiles could hear was the rain singing as drops hit tress and stones. 

Even with the lonely feeling, Stiles could still feel eyes on him. He looked around and frowned, “don’t do that. If you’re here, then please just leave. I probably have forgotten you, too.” Stiles laughed sadly and watched as a guy started to walk away from a tree. He stood up and ran after him, recognizing his form. “Hey! Hey! Derek?” He yelled and the other stopped, quickly turning around.

“You remember me?” Derek spoke a bit too quickly. Stiles shook his head, then nodded, then shook it again.

“Not from before; just from the hospital.” Stiles told him and watched as Derek turned around again. He promised he would stay away, but Stiles was not having it.   
“Hey!” He shouted again and clutched his shoulder, turning the taller man back around to face him. “Scott said… he said… Why didn’t you visit me?!” He shouted out at him.

“Because Stiles… I, I can’t explain it to you…” Derek shook his head, looking lost.

“Well… Why the hell not?” Stiles asked.

“I just can’t,” Derek shook his head again, wishing he hadn’t decided to check in on the teen when he’d caught his scent from the woods. Curiosity killed the cat and now it seemed it was after the wolf as well. 

“Were you my boyfriend or something? Was it that?” Stiles asked him, not seeing any other possibilities.

“Stiles… It’s-” Derek was going to tell him no but lips cut off his words. Even though he should have, Derek didn’t pull away. And that encouraged Stiles to kiss him harder. Derek only gave small response in return. How could he not with lips like Stiles’ on his? Eventually he did pull away like he should have at first. He took a step back away from him, noticing just how soaked they had become in a matter of moments. 

“We can still be together, Derek… I just need to get to know you again and maybe I’ll remember.” Stiles spoke, his once tear soaked face gone because of the strong down pour of rain. 

“We weren’t boyfriends, Stiles,” Derek spoke, turning and walking away without another word.

Stiles felt more tears drip down his face. He felt so lost and confused. The moment he thought he had finally gotten everything worked out, he was wrong. He walked back the couple feet to his mother’s grave and leaned against the gravestone and just let himself be covered in the rain. “This all just has to be a bad dream…” He spoke to himself.

Stiles started to shiver from the bite of the wind and that’s when he knew he needed to go. He stood up and looked around, lost again. His heart had led him here but he didn’t think his heart would get him out. He started looking around to see if he could see any gates or signs that would lead him out. He screamed out in frustration. “Just remember!” He shouted, rubbing his aching head.

Derek had tried his hardest to force himself to leave and go back to his loft, forgetting about seeing Stiles sobbing bitterly at the foot of his mother’s grave. That sight had made him want to rush out and comfort the hurting teen. But he had sworn to cut off all contact with Stiles Stilinski. And yet, when Stiles called his name out, a brief hope flared in his chest at the chance that Stiles had suddenly remembered him only to be crushed a moment later.

And then there was that kiss. The kiss was something Derek had not seen coming. How had Stiles even come to the conclusion that they had been in a relationship prior to the accident? He should have pulled back the moment their lips made contact. But the feeling of Stiles warm lips on his own and the taste of salty tears distracted him for a moment. The idea to confirm Stiles’ assumption flared as he found himself starting to return the kiss. 

He couldn’t do that. No. Stiles was finally free from a supernatural and danger filled life. Having any sort of contact with Derek, whether based on a lie or truth, would put him back in the line of fire. And he wouldn’t allow that to happen. So he pulled away, breaking the kiss and leaving before his body decided to act on its own and kiss the teen again. 

He didn’t get very far before he turned around, checking on Stiles. He would have liked to see Stiles walking in the opposite direction toward the exit, but he knew the stubborn idiot would still be there. Without even thinking about it, he turned around and walked back against his better judgment. 

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice came from behind him. He looked up, rain dripping from his hair, and spun around to meet Derek’s eyes. “Come on. You need to get home; you’re going to get sick…” That familiar gruff voice huffed.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “What do you care, jerk? You could have explained what exactly we are before walking away like a grumpy jerk,” he accused, doing his best to look stern even though he had a feeling it only made him look even more ridiculous. 

Derek grit his teeth, trying to keep his annoyance from turning into anger. “It’s more complicated than that, Stiles.” 

“I doubt it, Derek.” Stiles mimicked the other’s tone but his attempt was ruined when he started coughing. 

Concern flashed in Derek’s eyes. Even though Stiles was frustrating him he still cared and did not want him to end up in the hospital with pneumonia or something worse. He shrugged out of his damp but warm jacket and tossed it over Stiles’ head. “We weren’t a couple. What more do you want to know?” 

Stiles grumbled but more than willingly slipped into the warm jacket. It was definitely comforting and it slowed his shivers. It might have just been him, but the coat smelled faintly of wet dog and he wrinkled his nose though he wasn’t really bothered by it. “Thank you, for the coat, that is.” Stiles muttered. “But I am still annoyed.”

“You can be annoyed inside my car. If you haven’t noticed, it’s pouring rain and you look like you a drowned puppy.” Derek reached out to tug Stiles with him but the younger male stepped back with a shake of his head. 

“No. Why should I go with you? According to you, we’re strangers.” Stiles crossed his arms, fixing his gaze of the other defiantly. 

Derek raked his fingers through his hair and scowled. “Yes. That’s what we are. Complete and total strangers,” was what he wanted to say; it was what he wanted Stiles to believe. But he found himself denying the other’s accusation. “No. We’re not strangers.” 

“Then what are we? I won’t go with you until you tell me exactly who I am to you and vice versa. The way you looked at me inside the hospital room… Are you sure we weren’t dating?” The concern and worry Stiles had seen in his eyes couldn’t come from a complete stranger who didn’t even know him, could it? 

“We’re… Uh, we have a mutual friend in common. Scott.” Derek wasn’t exactly lying, just omitting a few details. Well, more than a few but it was necessary. “You and I have met a few times. But it’s not like we know each other like a couple would or anything.”

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip, thinking about Derek’s answer. It was plausible… But it didn’t feel like he was telling him everything. “Why were you at the hospital?” He blinked a few times as his vision started to fade and his knees started to sway. Huh? What was going on? Why was everything starting to go dark? 

“I… I was with Scott when your Dad called him. So I just sort of tagged along. Is that the end of your interrogation? Can I just take you home before you collapse- Stiles?!” Derek’s voice cut through the thick rainfall just as Stiles fell to his knees in the grass that had become more of a mud puddle than anything that resembled the green grass he had seen earlier. 

Stiles’ eyes rolled back into his head; unconscious before his body even hit the ground. Derek was by his side in a flash, lifting his limp body into his arms as carefully as he could manage. “Damn it, you little idiot…” He growled even though concern and worry were once yet again pumping through him. He ran as fast as he could to his car, managing to open the door while cradling Stiles with one arm. He carefully settled him into the passenger seat and buckled him in before running around to the other side and getting in. He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot faster than he ever had before.

Derek couldn’t go as fast as he would have liked to have gone. The rain made the road slick with water and speeding increased the risk of getting into an accident. Stiles had been lucky with his accident. It could have been so much worse. What were a few memories compared to the ability to walk or even your whole life? Derek couldn’t risk Stiles life even while trying to save it. 

Somehow, they managed to reach the Stilinski house without an accident much to Derek’s relief. He pulled into the driveway and frowned. Something was different but he couldn’t quire put a finger on what exactly that was though. The Jeep was being worked on so of course the driveway would be empty. Wait- Where was the cruiser? Derek swore. Sheriff Stilinski wasn’t home. What the hell was he supposed to do now? 

Stiles whimpered from his spot in the passenger seat and Derek made up his mind right then and there. He shot out of the car and ran to the passenger’s side, opening the door and lifting Stiles into his arms. The rain was still pouring but Derek ignored it as he rushed to the front door. He didn’t stop to ask Stiles for the key but instead broke the lock with one sharp, quick twist. 

Once they were finally out of the rain and in the warm house, Derek set the shaking and pale Stiles on the couch. Panic was rising with him along with a sense of uncertainty. He’d never taken care of someone sick like this before. 

“Focus, Derek,” he growled and went in search of towels and blankets. His mind went back to a point many, many years ago when his mother had taken care of one of the many friends his mother had, one which was human and had fallen ill. The memory of her hurt a bit, but it only made him want to care for Stiles more, like his mother would have. He grabbed three towels and a thick looking blanket before rushing back to Stiles. First things first, he had to get him out of those soaking clothes before they made whatever it was he had worse. 

When Stiles’ clothes and Derek’s jacket were tossed into a haphazard pile behind the couch and the water had been dried from his skin, Derek wrapped him tightly in the blanket and smoothed his hair from his forehead, feeling for a fever. He felt warmer than usual and Derek pulled out his phone to call the Sheriff who would probably do better at nursing Stiles back to health. Plus, he didn’t want to be there when Stiles awakened though he would definitely stay until the very last moment just to make sure Stiles was okay.

The sheriff was able to get the next couple of days off because his injured really couldn’t be alone and as soon as he got home Derek left with a simple good bye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have seemed to end every chapter so far with Stiles unconscious, Maybe I am for shadowing something? 
> 
> also thank you guys for the Kudos and Reviews, it really does help me get these chapters out faster~ <3


	4. Back to school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Chapterrrrr! Weee. Wow sorry this one was so late. College makes it hard sometimes. I hope you like it. It is a bit longer. Which is good right? And Ahhhhh Shout out to the blog milkinski.tumblr.com! I love them~! <3 They may be doing some art for this~! Also follow my Stiles blog for you know getting the chance to ask Stiles thingsx-askstilesstilinski-x.tumblr.com THEN FOLLOW MY PERSONAL IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO REQUEST A STORY WRITTEN BY ME sourwolfs-centerbench.tumblr.com

Luckily enough for Stiles, he didn’t get sick and he had a clean room when he woke up. The shards of glass were gone as well as the broken mirror. He sighed and just pulled the covers up and over his head. All he wanted to do was to lie there in bed forever and ever and just never move. He didn’t feel right. He had been wrong about who Derek was to him. ‘Just a friend of a friend,’ he remembered those cold words with such fierce clarity. He was a bit disappointed and couldn’t shake the way his lips had felt against Derek’s when he’d kissed him. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

Stiles held his stomach and pressed his face into his pillow to let out a scream. What else was he wrong about? The random guesses he had here and there could all be wrong, and he really just wanted to be right. He just wanted to remember. He wasn’t sure how long he was in bed but his mind was pulling him back to the moment when he was in the rain. The rain felt so calming on his skin. It was almost like the sky was crying with him, as if the rain was washing his pain away, if only for a moment. 

He pulled himself out of his bed and made his way to the bathroom, feet heavy with every step. He turned the showerhead on whatever, he didn’t care if it was freezing or scalding, and just pulled himself into the water. He felt tears spill from his eyes as he sat on the cold tub floor. He felt misplaced in his own home, everything familiar but not familiar. He wanted to feel like he was home, he wanted to feel right. But he felt lost and out of control, like he was spiraling down into nothing.

The warm water was pulling Stiles under, but he didn’t let it happen. Stiles didn’t want to sleep; he didn’t deserve it really. He turned off the water and slipped out of his dripping wet clothes, switching them for something simple and warm. He really had no clue when he started liking plaid so much. He used to hate it, he laughed when people would have it on everyday. Something he guessed, ‘before Stiles’ ended up liking…or something. He just put on a black shirt and some blue jeans. 

He made his way back into the bathroom and just stared at the man that was not himself in the mirror. His face was longer with more muscle and messy hair. Stiles wanted to look like him self, like the man he saw in the mirror only days ago, how he remembered. He quickly made his way into the kitchen, passed his father and tried not to pay attention to difference in his face too. He grabbed a pair of kitchen scissors and made his way back to the bathroom. 

“Your name is Stiles Stilinski. You a-are…you are not fifteen. You lost a couple years and you need to remember them. But for now you are going to be Stiles, a fifteen year old sophomore who is in senior classes…y-yeah.” Stiles looked to him self and started using the scissors to crappy cut off the long locks from his hair. Clip after clip it got shorter, despite being choppy. He looked a bit like himself, what he remembered of himself. 

His father came in a couple minutes later with a buzz cuter, plugging it in without a word and evened out the cut Stiles gave himself. “There you go.” He spoke setting them down to clean later. He noticed the wet sobbing clothes but did not ask anything about them. “You know… You can stay home tomorrow. You are not being forced to go.” 

Stiles shrugged and walked out of the bathroom and headed to his room. “I want to go. I’ll be fine.”

But Stiles wasn’t fine. His first day back at school was hell. He had to go to the front office to get his schedule printed out because he didn’t know what classes he had or where his classrooms were. He didn’t understand what his teachers were talking about. Every word that his teachers spoke confused him to the point of frustration. Even in his favorite classes like history and English there were things that he just did not get. It all sort of flew over his head. Stiles thought that lunch would be better, but that was just as horrid. He hoped that Scott or anyone he might have befriended in the past two years would help cheer him up but his best friend was nowhere to be found. So Stiles just walked around trying to keep his mind off of what happened. Trying to keep it off of his mother’s death and the random stranger named Derek, because those thoughts were crushing him. 

It was hard to not notice all the changes in his classmates’ faces. Every looked so… old. They had facial hair and were at least a few inches taller. And the girls had bigger boobs while the guys had bigger muscles. Puberty sure worked wonders. But no matter what he saw nothing changed what he was feeling. It was like he was watching life through a strangers eyes and it all seemed so fake. Puppets and dolls, that’s what everyone was. They all repeated the same crap to him. “You’re lucky you survived!” “We’re here if you need to talk!” “Dude, you have my number so use it any time you need someone.” What was so lucky about this? In all honesty he would much rather have died. 

When people weren’t bombarding him with offers of friendship and support, they whispered behind his back. “He’s always been weird but he’s even weirder now.” “He looks like crap.” “He was a total zombie when his mom died, this is like a repeat of that!” Stiles couldn’t take much more of this. His head was swimming with the jumble of words people kept throwing at him. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was crazy. He wanted to just drop everything and scream. Scream away his confusion, his frustrations, and his feeling of absolute defenselessness. But he didn’t. 

When the bell rang for the next class Stiles just wanted to go home and curl up on the couch with his head in his father’s lap but he wanted to show his dad that he was okay and didn’t need to be worried about 24/7. So he stayed and no matter how many times he found his fingers over the button on his phone that would call his dad he remained firm in his resolution. When he walked through the door of his Econ class, he double checked his schedule to make sure he was in the right room but his eyes landed on Scott. He was relieved to see a familiar face and he strode over to him feeling marginally better. Scott would know what to say to cheer him up. 

He meant to start the conversation normally with maybe a hello or what’s up, but what came out was his anger and annoyance. “What the hell man? Where were you at lunch?” Stiles asked his best friend, knowing that even now they must still eat lunch together. 

“Sorry man… I was hanging out with Isaac,” Stiles noted a slight hesitation in Scott’s words before he continued, “we had some homework to go over. I thought I told you, I really am sorry.” Scott offered in reply, not looking in his direction. Stiles made a face and rolled his eyes, walking to the empty chair in the back corner of the classroom that seemed isolated from everyone else without another words to his so called best friend. It was perfect for him. He too was isolated from everyone else. Even Scott who’d been his friend longer than he could remember. 

 

He had no idea who Isaac was or why he suddenly felt like he’d been replaced. Of course, if he had been replaced he wouldn’t know about it, would he? Stiles glanced around the room. If there was any ideal moment for a pit to suddenly form beneath his feet and swallow him whole now was the time. Whispers followed him around no matter where he went. Teachers who passed him the halls tried to give him encouraging smiles and even the lunch lady had given him extra tater tots. Though he appreciated the extra tots, he couldn’t enjoy them. Not when everything felt so fake.

He was too caught up in his thoughts to pay much a blonde haired guy sliding into the seat next to him. But when the guy flicked a folded up piece of paper on to his desk, all of Stiles’ attention was focused on him. He frowned and stared at the note, hesitantly picking it up. Was the guy a friend? Since when did he befriend pretty blonde boys with curly hair and blue eyes? The guy inspired an odd feeling within Stiles and he honestly wasn’t sure what to think. So he opened the note and read it. 

“Scott told me you don’t remember anything about the last two years. Which means you don’t remember me. I’m Isaac, by the way.” Stiles blinked and then glanced up to the blondie who’d turned around to watch Coach, yeah he remembered some of his teachers, write something on the board. So that was Isaac. The one Scott had been too busy with to hang out with him at lunch. He couldn’t keep ignore the jealousy that suddenly started to crawl inside of his mind. 

Isaac kept tossing glances back toward him so Stiles gave in and wrote a reply. “Hi. Yeah, I have no idea who you are. Sorry, dude. How come you spend so much time with Scott?” He hadn’t wanted to seem like he was jealous but his pen had a mind of its own and scrawled those obviously jealous words. Stiles folded the note back up and tossed it on to Isaac’s desk when Coach had his back turned. 

From where he was siting he had a clear view of the smile that curved Isaac’s lips as he read Stiles’ reply. Stiles frowned in confusion. Was there something amusing about what he wrote? Everything about Isaac set him on edge. Well, he had already been on edge before the class had even started. Isaac just pushed him further. 

The note was passed to him quickly. He debated on whether or not to open it, but he needed to know: had he been replaced? He was ashamed to notice how his fingers shook as he opened the note but he tried to ignore it just as he was ignoring the pain he felt in his chest. His eyes skimmed over the words that were written much neater compared to his own sloppy scrawl. “Well Scott told me not to tell you. But… I can admit that I’ve been living at Scott’s house for about two months now.” There was even a smiley face drawn in the corner. Its sickeningly innocent penciled smile mocked him with its fake happiness. 

Stiles balled the piece of paper in his fist, the shaking spreading from his fingers to the rest of his body. He couldn’t do this anymore. He really couldn’t. Scott was keeping secrets from him now of all the possible worst times? It was stupid to trust the word of a verifiable stranger but he was too angry to care. Besides Scott didn’t even look at him earlier and he was sure he hadn’t imagined it. 

“Stop it.” Stiles wasn’t aware he’d spoken aloud, having meant to mentally order his body to stop before he ended up having another panic attack. But the shaking grew more uncontrollable and it felt as if the walls surrounding him were slowly but surely pressing closer. “Stilinski?” A voice called and he looked up to see Coach hovering over him with a look torn between concern and annoyance at being interrupted. “Are you alright?” Every face in the classroom was on him, some were annoyed, some curious, and some amused. Scott looked worried but that only made Stiles’ stomach twist because it had to be fake. 

Without a word Stiles stood and grabbed his bag, nearly tripping over his own feet in his clumsy hurry to be far away from that class. Laughter followed him, cut off when the door slammed closed behind him. His vision was starting to go blurry and his breath was turning more into gasps for air. He wanted to be outside but the front doors were another hallway away so he stumbled into the boys’ bathroom for a moment. He lurched forward and would have fallen on his face had his hands not grasped on the edges of one porcelain sink. He used one hand to turn on the faucet and splash cold water onto his face, forcing himself to breath slowly long enough for his breaths to become more even and less erratic. 

Stiles looked up and stared into the face of a teenage boy who looked half drowned. He was still staring at his reflection when Scott walked into the bathroom, his eyes meeting Stiles’ in the mirror. Not now, he groaned mentally, he just wanted to be alone for a moment; was that really too much to ask for? He sighed and closed his eyes, hoping Scott would get the silent message and just go away. He didn’t. 

 

“Stiles, are you having another panic attack?” Scott asked, taking a hesitant step forward to rest his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. Which Stiles’ promptly shrugged off before he even answered. “What do you care? Go back to class and pass notes with Isaac. I’ll be fine.”

Scott rubbed his face and sighed. He knew he’d ignored Stiles earlier and been a complete and total dick but it was necessary. And he needed to speak with Isaac again to make sure he promised to not mention any werewolf stuff to Stiles. The same went for Lydia and everyone else he could think of. Derek was determined to keep Stiles in the dark about the pack and Scott was determined to do whatever would keep Stiles safe even if it meant lying to someone who had trusted him more than anything. “No, I won’t. I’m worried about you.” 

Stiles grit his teeth and turned to face Scott. “Worried friends don’t abandon friends at lunch to fend for themselves. You know what I’m going through Scott. I don’t need you to hold my hand or anything like that. But I need someone who will look me in the eye when I talk to them and not call me crazy behind my back.” 

“Okay, look, I’m sorry. I was a dick earlier and I regret it. Can you forgive me?” Scott really was sorry and he hoped Stiles could see the apology that was written on his face. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll give you a ride home right now if you want it, and you can ask me whatever you want.” He knew it was a dangerous offer and that it meant more lies but he couldn’t stand having Stiles mad at him or seeing that hurt look in his eyes.

Stiles stared at Scott in silence for a long moment. Yes, he was still pissed as hell. But he really needed his best friend more than anything right now so he grudgingly nodded his head. “I’m still mad you, so don’t think you’re off the hook that easily. But I want to go home and I don’t want to have to have Dad pick me up early.” There was only one more period left but Stiles couldn’t go, not after the meltdown he’d just had. People would be talking about that for days, he was certain. 

Scott grinned and adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. “C’mon then,” he turned, throwing one last look over his shoulder at Stiles to make sure he was going to follow, before heading toward the door and stepping out into the hallway. Stiles stared at his reflection for another second after Scott had left. He still looked somewhat drowned and there were bags underneath his eyes, but he looked like a normal teenager with normal teenage stress issues. So why was it so damn hard acting like a normal teenager with normal issues? Stiles shook his head and picked up his backpack, following in Scott’s wake. 

He felt less suffocated outside in the cool air and he was able to breath with more ease. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the calm feeling that he felt for a second. But then Scott honked his horn and it dissipated. Stiles opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, settling his backpack awkwardly on his lap. Scott smiled over at him before turning his head as he backed out. “Normally I ride an old motorcycle but I had to drive Isaac to school and mom- Oh.” He stopped himself, realizing Isaac wasn’t the best topic to bring up right then and there. 

Stiles rolled down the window to let the cool air blow away the tension that was slowly reforming between them. “No, don’t stop we can talk about your new buddy. I’m curious why he lives with you. Wanna tell me?” He cast his eyes from the view outside his window to Scott who had his eyes firmly fixated on the road before them. His hands gripped steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white, Stiles noted.

“Isaac lives with me because he’s… Some sort of cousin twice removed. His dad died in a… gang shooting and he had to come live with us because the court though he should be with someone close to his age.” Guilt ate him up inside for lying to Stiles but it was necessary, he reminded himself though it didn’t make him feel any better about doing it. 

Scott didn’t seem like he was lying, but Stiles didn’t quite believe him. He could always ask his dad but he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to know if Scott was lying to him. So he nodded his head and accepted the answer without questioning it. “Alright, so tell me how I know the Derek guy.” He knew he probably should just forget about him and it was stupid to ask Scott since he’d gotten an answer from Derek himself, but he couldn’t help it. What more could he want? Confirmation. He wanted to hear Scott say the same thing Derek had. 

Scott gave him a quizzical look before focusing back on the road. He was relieved that Stiles had bought the lie about Isaac but what about Derek? They seriously should have went over what they were going to say so their stories matched. But Derek probably hadn’t even spoken with Stiles yet. He was so intent on staying away from him so Scott could tell Stiles whatever and just fill Derek in later, he figured. “He, uh, helped out at the Sheriff’s station last summer as an intern. He came over to your house a few times for dinner cause he lives on his own and can’t cook. I was over working on a project for English with you and you introduced us.” Scott finished, rather proud of the story he’d concocted. 

Stiles stiffened. He’d expected their stories to match but they were so different. He didn’t want to believe that Scott was lying, anything but that. But both his and Derek’s stories seemed fake. Just like everything else. “Oh,” he said. “That sounds like fun, I wish could remember it…” Scott just nodded his head in agreement. “I was talking to Deaton about it and he said your memories might come back but there’s no saying when.” 

Stiles didn’t want to know who Deaton was. For all he knew the guy was just another Isaac used to replace Stiles. “Hopefully, I really hate not remembering. I mean, do I like the cheese pizza better than the olive? I couldn’t decide.” The attempt at a joke fell from humorless lips. Stiles was really relieved to notice that they were just a street away from his house. 

Scott pulled into the driveway and parked. “Cheese is better, trust me. See you later? I have an early shift at work so I can’t stay.” Scott apologized but Stiles shook his head. “It’s fine. I need some time alone anyways. Thanks for the ride,” he opened the door, stepping out and giving Scott a wave goodbye as he headed to the door.

Inside he tossed his backpack on to the floor and curled up on the couch, pressing his knees into his chest and curling into a tight little ball. He didn’t want to go back tomorrow he didn’t want to deal with all of that again tomorrow…


End file.
